Memories: 25 February 2023

25 February 2023

I was utterly exhausted all day, from dancing last night. My asthma is bad too. But this afternoon I managed to wire up the firebricks to an old cast iron grill to make a casting/soldering/annealing station.

I was too tired to fire up the torch (still nervous of my new gas torch set up so want to be clear headed and alert when I practice it for the first time.

I also re-made the mould so hopefully I will feel ready tomorrow to have a go at it.

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Looks like an Angel or a harpy…depending on your preference. Liquor or liqueur? It’s all licorice or limericks to me. (Can you tell I wore myself out dancing last night?!) my brain is scrambling.

25 February 2022

Yesterday and today have felt deeply spiritual. It’s been pouring with rain since last night. I moved through the morning, watching shows on YouTube then got a powerful urge to go buy groceries. I was told by my intuition or spirit guide to go to Aldi at Stones Corner. Money is very tight this fortnight as I had to pay out $400 on bills. I hesitated. It will cut things very fine indeed.

Go to Stones corner…came back the order. I don’t like taking orders from either corporeal entities or discarnate ones. I considered going to my local Aldi instead as it is closer and it’s raining. “no…go to Stones corner” came the reply a third time.

I have been intuiting a certain man who I try very hard to block, to forget, to not make any further contact.

So I thought, why Stones Corner? Why today on such a dreary wet but humid day? Why do anything at all?

But I had a shower and washed my hair. I did not put on any makeup, not even lipstick. I have nothing to prove and my face is my own. A kind of rebellion…my naked sacred warrior goddess face! I did not wear a mask because fuck it, I need every scrap of oxygen I can get.

I put on one of my beautiful silk sari wrap skirts that I have rarely worn. I chose a lilac- coloured one. I put on an old t-shirt that has a purple design on the front. I wore my Donai/Venus of Willendorf earrings. (The choice of these particular earrings seemed somehow imperative.) The divine feminine in all her juicy fat fecundity 🙂.

I put on my red sandals and tightened the buckles. Not a day to go stomping around in high heels, I thought.

I felt powerful, empowered and on a mission, which overlayed my usual exhaustion and undercurrent of anxiety. Like a mantle of a Mage.

I drove to Stones Corner and chose a parking spot on the top level close to the entrance. It was pissing with rain and I had no umbrella but that didn’t bother me as my hair was still wet from washing it.

I ran a brush through it so it looked a bit more manageable. I got out of the car and took the lift to go downstairs to Aldi.

It was quiet in the shopping centre. I felt like I was being watched. A few people were sitting at a café. A very large Pacific Islander man was staring at me. I ignored it. He had a mask on and I could not discern if I knew him as one of the security at the casino or that former pub I used to dance at.

I think perhaps he was one of the security as he kept staring as if he knew me and I continued to ignore him. Resting bitch face is an art form Bitches!!! Lol

I fumbled with my trolley token, dragging it out of my purse. I grab the trolley and stoicly march into Aldi.

I walk up and down the aisles. Perusing all their wares with great intensity. I see they have a cheese maker but it’s $50 and right now I can’t afford it so I reluctantly pass it by. Grrr. But all my resources last week: financial and psychic went into manifesting my new lawnmower so that is enough for now. I must remain in a state of gratitude and grace. Satisfied and triumphant!

I am a bit bored walking down the aisles so I buy more food-type goodies than I intended. Probably a psychological Miss Five tantrum at not being able to afford the extra cash for the cheese maker thingy. Instead I buy Swiss cheese as a treat.

Next fortnight I will not be struggling so badly as I only pay car rego every three months and that is what slammed my budget this week. Fuck it. But I tell myself “you will Survive! You always do, Tanya”

And I push back the anxiety like a Lion tamer with a long stool, flicking that beast back into its corner, as it salivates and howls demonically.

I laugh to myself. It’s ridiculous. My entire life. But I rise in my energy field and tell myself. It’s okay..it’s all okay.

I finish shopping and pay at the checkout and load my groceries into bags. I walk out of Aldi thinking well, that job is done, so spirit can just leave me alone now. I start to walk to the elevator.

Something tells me to go outside, perhaps have a coffee. (Am I that bored?) So I push my trolley outside and walk down the street a bit. It’s raining torrents and there are a few people at the cafés but no one on the streets and then I remember I can’t sit at a coffee shop anyway so what’s the fucking point?!

So bemused with my Angel that insisted I trawl outside the building for the edification of unseen eyes… I walk stolidly back inside the building, feeling relieved that I had not had any weird encounters or possibly run into former zombie lovers or those weirdo Serbian playboys from the past that usually hang out at Stones corner and are part of the reason I usually avoid going there.

Phew. Okay I think. What that was about I don’t know? I keep walking to the elevator. Suddenly, as an afterthought and an aggravated defiance that I could not sit down anywhere and be served food or a coffee, instead treated like some fucking animal by our governmental drones… I reach into my shopping bag and pull out some chocolate I bought in Aldi.

Comfort food.

So I snap a piece of chocolate off with a flourish of triumph and stuff it into my mouth biting down on the Quetzalcoatl nectar that soothes my savage furious quest for satiation and sweetness!

I become conscious that someone is standing behind me but I ignore it. The lift doors open and a man steps out alongside me. I glance at him but he demurs so I push my trolley into the lift and turn my back to my trolley so I can face the doors as we ascend.

He is wearing his mask. He nods to me. A man with kind eyes but that look of semi-predatorial hunger that men get when they think they have got you alone. Oh boy, I think. Here we go. I politely but curtly give him a quick nod back. Then I feel this powerful energy pour through me. Protection. Honour. Power.

I turn to face the front and keep chewing on my chocolate. We both arrive at the second floor. He looks at me. I look at him. Expecting him to exit the lift first as he is unencumbered by a trolley full of food.

“After you…” he says. I stare at him sullenly as though he has done me a great favour that I am not so sure about! Schoolmarmishly and adroitly I reply “Thank you”. His eyes gleam with some kind of triumph…or desire. He has heard my voice. Jesus.

I drag my trolley out and turn right towards my car. Grateful that it is so close to the entrance as it’s still raining. The man disappears almost as suddenly as he arrived behind me at the elevator.

What was that?!

I open the boot of my car and I load my car and I drive home. Into the rain, alone, unhindered by any more escalations of spiritual encounters foisted upon me as “practise” by my Angel/demon matchmaker entity!

I get home and unload the groceries and think again…what WAS that all about? I start receiving vibes from the zombie lover again. It’s nearly his birthday and only a few days after the anniversary of meeting him.

So it’s spiritual and emotional. But I bat it away as if a man loves you, he is present in your life, loyal, faithful and true, he does not play games and I have no heart or time or soul left for this endless cyclic soul contract with defunct disinterested disingenuous men.

And when a new man shows interest (as in Lift Guy) I feel the energy as an intense abutment of my powerful witchy wild woman core and I block it.

And no, I am not lonely. Not lonely enough to engage with strangers and seduce them into another nightmarish go-round on my figure 8 infinity dance of love that orbits my life then draws close enough to set my blood running in my veins then disappears from my core because…ineptitude or fear or misplaced potential violence..I have outlived all the games that men play. Not today, Boys….not today.

Quetzalcoatl and me sat on my couch and devoured the rest of the chocolate in glee. Happiness.

…

Let Peace reign in all worlds. Especially in this one. Here’s looking at you, Russia and Ukraine. Love your children more than you love corruption, greed and warmongering.

25 February 2021

Happy Purim (which starts this evening!)

The Tanya is still a Jew and the Jew is still a Witch. I may be without a community after decades of epic Vileness but nothing and no one can take my God away from me!

Eat some Hamantaschen and stamp out Haman’s name in a Shule near you! (I also stomp on Hitler’s name too!). In each generation there arises an oppressor, but the worst oppression was the treachery and vileness of my own community.

C’est la vie! Stay in the Light People. G-d is watching. 🙂

Update 25 February 2023: I still feel the same way. 🙂 eat your hamantaschen and Dance/Stomp/those evil entities into the bowels of hell…Never to be regurgitated again. Turn shits to spiritual gold. Rejoice. Be free. Love your beloveds. Nothing and no one else matters.

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Update 25 February 2023: Haha some young woman informed me last night that she loved my corset and wished she had my breasts. I informed her they are big luscious breasts because I have fed babies and gotten fat. They are totally made up of chips and chocolate these days.

“What?” She said. I grinned. “It’s true! When I was a young girl I only had b-cups”! Mic drop. She still didn’t get it. Fat is a feminist issue but it does gift you larger boobs. (I used to pray for bigger breasts as a teenager…so be careful what you wish for!)

Also I maintain this weight as it’s part of my Boudicca Armoring! I give the illusion of a larger wilder more carefree woman who can sit you back on your arse if you dare attack me. Been there…too many times.

Anyway young one was wearing a sexy black bra under a tailored jacket with black pants. She pulled her jacket aside to show me her still perky very presentable large enough lung capacitors esconced in her bra. Nothing wrong with her mamajumblies.

So I pulled her jacket back over and said “that’s enough of that display or they will all want some!” She smiled in confusion. There is a fine line between naughty and nice!

She arrived with two young men who got rather jealous that she was giving me attention instead of them so they led her away. She was quite drunk though. Strange little bird.

She had similar looks and energy to my former friends Gail and her daughter Lucy. A sense of danger mixed up with sexuality that is so enticing but also a tad fetid.

She was dying to meet me and had stood with her two men friends in the corner next to my spot, kinda stalking the lovely couple sitting next to me as she wanted their seats. It was invasive. I was well aware. Lol.

The woman sitting nearby had shown me a photo in her phone of her and I together, at the Livewire bar. She said it was from 2018! I told her it was lovely that she still kept that photo!

Her partner was shy and lovely, tall and a bit geeky. Much later in the night I enticed him to get up and dance as he was dancing joyfully in his seat.

It was “Dance like an Egyptian. He said to me “I am sure this must offend certain cultural backgrounds”. I liked that he had considered that. But dryly I replied “It’s just a song from the 80s and you know, you are allowed to be silly sometimes”. So he danced wildly, making all the “Egyptian” dance motions and I thought that was delightful.

I left at 2 am after security made a big deal about me taking off my 6 inch stilettos and dancing in my stockings. FFS. I was crippled after 3 1/2 hours of dancing! But I was already preparing to leave. (I had my shawl on, which I usually put on when I am planning to leave my dance space.

My friend Jo must have thought I was angry as I flounced off, as she texted me “Bye, see you next Friday?” But in truth I was not really all that angry, just dog tired and over it!

And frankly I was standing in my stockings next to my seat and not flouncing around the floor so they could have just let me rest my feet for a while. I said to the very handsome security guard ”you try dancing on stilts for hours and let me see how well you walk in my shoes. I am an old lady now!”

But yeah, those shoes are killer heels now. They look fabulous but they are dangerous for my arthritis old lady tootsies.

I need to go to Byron and dance barefoot on the beach.

All these draconian control dynamics shit me to tears.

FREEDOM TO THE PEOPLE… and to toes.

25 February 2020

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Update 25 February 2023: I miss my boy, Socks. And Sophie and Penny, Bella Rosa and Jeffie, and all the chickens and goldfish I lost. So so much grief!

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25 February 2019

I woke up after only 4 hours sleep. I slept 12 hours yesterday. It is unusual after such epic exhaustion to not require more sleep. I shall have to trust my body which is largely calling the shots these days. My poor brain, hypervigilant and processing old traumas is just running wild but my body says “Enough, already!”

Last night I hurt in strange places. My rib cage, and down my spine. My neck still feels stiff from moshing to “Zombie”. Lmao. My former elderly psychiatrist would be so proud of me for reclaiming my life from the gravelrash of obliteration and rising up to stake my claim on my tiny spot of existence.

He always believed I would rebirth myself one day. Albeit it took a suicide attempt to finally kickstart my new existence. That and finally culling false friends and former lovers in recent months.

The past 5 years have been quite a threshing floor of sorting the chaff from the wheat and baking some luscious stuff of Life. My fucking soufflé keeps rising and falling and I did keep cleaving to false treacherous people but I am finally learning who is real in my life and discarding the overblown borderlines and narcissists. Like dirty rags. No wonder I feel so exhausted and depleted.

But here we go. My house is clean and my mind is free to accept new paradigms of existence that I have only ever dreamed of. It could happen.

One day at a time, sweet Moses! (Ahhh but he too was denied Paradise for all his efforts). Thank the gods I am no prophet and the wages of my sins will only ever be death, ghetto-purging my former zombie self and dancing into the Light!

It took 10 years and two months to finally purge my house of stuff, and 5 years since I fell in love with that dreadlocked English prat to recover my heart. (He whom insisted I decluttered my house…envious of my hardwon acquisitions?!)

I wonder what the next 5 or 10 years will gift me?

Hopefully...the worst is over. I have felt like a record on a disk jockey’s table being scratched and shuffled to a cacophonous melodrama. But there is finally a different harmonic resonance.

No more cognitive dissonance. I have identified the two-bit psychopaths and their henchwomen. Now I am free of their evil bullshit. I can breathe again.

One came to spy on Friday night. Two others danced beside me on Saturday night. Oh and rather weirdly, I saw another one at the crossing on Friday night and driving into the casino on Saturday night, I am pretty sure I was driving behind her mother’s car.

The universe is throwing these past evil motherfuckers at me thick and fast and I am just wading through them like chunky gone-off chicken soup. I will not let them attach to me again.

It took 19 years to get free of some of them. After 15 years of abuse and manipulations. That was the price of my love and friendship. A heavy heavy price.

So now...I am determined to thrive. Let’s see how that goes. I can barely imagine what that might be like. But shhh....baby steps.

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25 February 2018

Trigger warning: sexual Assault, csa.

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Crystal came to borrow the car so she can go house-hunting. So I am sitting here, hungry as a horse on acid after running a marathon (2 nights of dancing) feeling brittle and fragile and exhausted so making chips in my air frier. Yum!

I had a lovely time but now my body will make me pay for it. Such is my life. It is awesome in so many ways.

Last night some young guy tried to kiss me and ran his fingers over my crotch. Dirty on life because his mother walked out on him when he was 5. (He just turned 30). I was thinking how I wished my arsehole monstrous mother had walked out on me instead of inflicting more paedophiles and creeps on my childhood.

Anyway young broken man wanted sex from me. So I told him I was asexual which is partially true having been celibate for over 3 years and that he was too young for me and sent him on his way. After his filthy little grope I thought to myself, perhaps he takes after his father and that was why his mother ran off.

Or perhaps he was just a drunk bitter little predator like 80 per cent of the men I meet out in the night.

Anyway, no harm no foul, I was just too tired to even bother slapping him one.

Too tired of a sad lonely abusive treacherous existence. Too bloody tired.

I barely have any libido left anyway. (Thank god for that!) I am more powerful in my masculine energy these days. It is what it is. The great gift of trauma, disassociation and dealing with fuckers. Psy sighs.

I wish...nevermind. He was never going to love me as I am. None of them were. I have had to be my own woman (and inner man and furious inner child) for so long.

I am my own Beloved. I keep myself precious for the gods, my true heart and sharpened mind. I was not created for the average male.

I will embody my bliss, my beauty, and my breath and believe in myself - the goddess of desire and fire and integrity.

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One of the cats has acted out this morning by a) shitting on the bathroom floor and b) urinating on my dining table. This often happens after I have been out on the weekend nights, dancing. A helluva protest!

I suspect Sophie. Bastard insane cat. But I gave her a cuddle and brushed her fur even as I plotted the prospect of putting her to sleep. She is mentally unstable. What can one do? But clean up after the lunatics in my life.

It was easily cleaned up. Lucky it was not in clothing or bedding. But my dining table? Fuck my life! What a peculiar place to pee. She can’t pee on my computer table any more as I keep the door shut to the front lounge room at all times. So now it is the dining table. Holy hell!

I put her outside now. She can stay there for the rest of the day.

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25 February 2017

I had a great night dancing with my beautiful friends last night. Such a great night that the resident Treasury Casino Troll attacked me..again. She must really love me as she has been stalking and harassing me for well over 2 years. Lana. Such a spiteful little sack of vermin. Lol.

I just told her to keep away from me, you ugly creepy troll. But to be honest it is kind of disgusting how the security permit her to harass and bully me and when I stand up for myself, attempt to demonise me.

Hmmm. Interesting. Apparently being a free spirit with a love of music and dancing, being surrounded by friends who enjoy themselves without envy or malice is enough to upset some people.

If only Lana would discover that by her vengeful spiteful actions she only continuously makes herself look very nasty and small. She has spent years doing this. It must keep her fucked mind and fragile ego very busy. All that pent up hate. Hmmm.

I am tired of the bullshit actually. But she is one (albeit very dedicated enemy) in a sea of people who actually enjoy my company.

So... Schmeh.

25 February 2016

6.35 pm. Feeling a tiny bit better. Enough to put worm wee on the garden plants and walk around feeling slightly less dead.

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Today the man I am in love with, told me he won't talk to me anymore as I am "too psycho". Another abuser. He would rather dismiss me as crazy than face up to his narcissistic sociopathology. He hung up on me. Cold as the grave.

So true to form, in my failure to gain love, acceptance and respect, I am experiencing another breakdown. Today it reached its peak. I am stoned as a mullet on 100 mgs Seroquel and will remain that way until the emotional pain subsides.

I have had to pass out quite often, with the heat and the Seroquel. Now up and at 'em at 5.32pm. Sleep or unconsciousness is the best cure for yet another shattered heart.

My doctor spoke to me yesterday and said I have had a breakthrough in that I recognise I deserve to be loved, valued and respected as much as any other person. It is, to use my own words "perfectly reasonable". But the grief and despair remains. I chose another arsehole. Another weapon of my longterm pattern of emotional/mental destruction that is a legacy from my childhood.

Well, here I am. Still holding on to an empty hope and a tragic life. Denial. The gift of walking ass first through life expecting to be welcomed and embraced at every door.

Knock knock! Who's there? Nobody.

Love is cruel. It hasn't gotten any less cruel in 51 years. Just one nightmare after another. Psychedelic Dreamer's Paradise.

Update 25 February 2023: The dirty evil cunt. He drove past me on Cavendish Road yesterday. Not stalking as he was heading towards the city and I was returning from picking up my oxygen gas bottle. But it was still weird.

He lives a few suburbs away so I suppose it’s going to happen occasionally that I see him on the road. Usually he just stalks me via the West End Drumming Circle page. Like an ignoble gimp. I guess he misses me. Lmao! P.

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My front tooth crown is loose. I will have to ask for a dental voucher tomorrow. I don't think the public system will fix it. So pissed off as I only got it done early 2013 with my inheritance. Crowns should last longer than 3 years.

FML. I will be back to looking like a toothless old crone again!

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Just went to Bunnings to buy sanding paper blocks to sand my wooden book covers with. I had been told dogs are welcome at Bunnings so I walked in with him on a leash. He played with a toddler. The mother enjoyed his interaction.

Next thing I know a staff member was screaming at me that he had to be carried or walked with a muzzle. So I carried him. But it put me off buying any other items. Too hard to pick up stuff with a dog under one arm. So I bought the sanding blocks and left.

Fucking idiots. She said there was a sign at the front door. But there was not! So I told the door woman that I am insulted.

She pointed to a small sign in the wall behind her. I said "that is not on the front door". Fucking nuts. The nanny state is out of control. Fear and hatred and persecution of people doing normal things. Different if he was a vicious animal or he had been off-leash.

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After I dropped out of Varsity at 18, I was still working part time at Suzy's Coffee Lounge. I had a transvestite man come up to me. "What have you done? Do you know who you could have been? I hoped you would be NZ's first female Chief Justice!"

I looked at him sadly. Amazed to see how he valued me. (I had always accepted him, even when he dressed as a dour old matron and when I set down his coffee I would call him Madam instead of Sir). I said, "I know I have failed miserably but I will just be happy if I grow up to be kind".

I had lots of very unusual customers in that shop. The flamboyant owner, and its position in Willis street near the city centre attracted them.

When I started there (in the middle of my school certificate examinations, stressed out of my gills - my mother the Narcopath and Suzy too, hoping to sabotage my marks) I was ordered to chase customers down the street who had given up on the long queues to get in and get a seat.

“Come in, come in! I assure you there will be a seat for you". NZers, unaccustomed to brash chutzpah in a 15 year old girl, under orders from her greedy boss would simply oblige. It used to amaze me. Suzy informed the Managers that I was her little Hostess which caused undue jealousy and conflict.

Until I snapped one evening and told my Maori Manager that I had been abused all my life, including at school and I would be damned if I was going to let that happen at work as well.

I stated I was only there to do a job, earn my pittance of money and then fuck off home for some peace. I reminded her that Suzy had known me from childhood and it would not go well if I laid a complaint about the bullying.

She looked at me. Blushed. Then we became the best of friends. She and her sister took me pub-crawling when I was 16. They introduced me to every pub in Wellington.

Even the Royal Tiger, the roughest pub in town. But they also protected me and taught me to stand up for myself even in "bad" company. Hilarious. The men for their part delighted in my stoic strength and chutzpah and cheeky banter and sense of humour.

That was my training ground to real life. Not University! Lmao!

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Another hellish day. Extra Seroquel for me. Sit in the sunshine with a cup of tea and my dog and contemplate my options.

25 February 2015

My body wants to Dance but both ankles hurt today. Without seeing a doctor, I have come to the conclusion that hurting my left ankle and feet on 14th Feb (dancing in inappropriately too-high shoes..glamorous but crippling) has activated my septic arthritis symptoms. No sign of infection or swelling but constant arthritic pain in the ankles (both ankles today.) Nuts.

No dancing this weekend, methinks. Just cameo appearances, walk on/walkoff or sit and plotz like the half a century I am. (I will not go into older age quietly). I slept the sleep of the Zombies for 20 years.

Now my feet just have to accept the inevitable. I am not ready to hang up my boots yet! Time to Fly, my Pretties! (Cackle, screech, hack, wheeze. Breathe in, breathe out. Rinse and repeat until I die! Ok, ok, flying might not quite be an option but I can stagger, lumber and crawl).

Boy , am I tired!

Btw. I am writing this mode of operations from Sacred Space Heart-Quarters, in my garden, drinking tea, getting much needed fresh air and sunlight! Before I start biting necks and feasting on human blood. Like Ewww!!!

I did devour a block of hazelnut chocolate during the night. Miss Five insisted. Miss Five chooses to forget that Ms Almost-50 does not have the metabolism of a 5 year old. But she is cute and wanted her precious.

Psy sighs. I will never get old while I have that Brat running the show. She is Awesome though. I should take her out to play. We need Byron Bay, my other precious!

Update 25 February 2023: Lol happy anniversary crippled feet. Queen of inappropriate footwear strikes again. I am okay though. Which is weird. They don’t hurt too badly today. I must have really needed that dance after the bad anxiety of my gas torch set up yesterday.

I am a successful, beautiful, talented, wild woman…as long as I don’t blow myself up or accidentally gas myself. Everything I need to achieve (have ever achieved!) is/was on the other side of Fear! So on I dance, regardless of how my feet react. Footloose not footless and restless, or even Berserker in Brisssbane!

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25 February 2014

My romantic life is finally getting interesting. I noticed 2 men are vaguely interested. Noone has claimed me for his partner yet. Vague floundering efforts aren't a serious enough sign that either if them is "into" me in a positive way!

I must say I did enjoy the freaked out "hovering of the Hummingbirds" desperately seeking nectar when they observed me actually sitting down and oh my gosh....talking and smiling with a...man! They almost died! Too late Suckers, Psychedelic Dreamer won't play games. You in her life or you are Out. I abhor gameplayers!

However it did my crushed ego a lot of good to see how my beautiful sweet women friends gathered around to make sure I was ok! I love you so much, my Angels. It was heartwarming to see you return the compliment for every time I have protected you Girls also!

Even the gentleman in question commented that he had been dying to chat with me for months, but I am always dancing! Never occurred to him that I do that on purpose! Lmao. He said "what is different, that you are sitting down and chatting?"

I laughed. Said, "it 's very simple! I am vulnerable and broken down cos I snapped my back other day so can't possibly dance all night like I normally do!"

Lol. Note to self, be Broken more often so the shy vague ones can step up to the mark to talk to me. If I feel like talking to a man, that is!

Update 25 February 2023: What is different ? I should have given that one a big miss….the evil treacherous vicious little cunt! The biggest game player of them all still circles around me like a fucking corpse eating vulture.

But don’t worry! The gods granted this Zombie a reconfigured heart and a mind capable of finally…finally seeing through his bullshit. So I keep flying/dancing/writing …and loving. He and his ilk failed to kill me…so roll over MOTHERFUCKERS…The Tanya is moving on…through that morass of evil.

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I saw my psychiatrist briefly today to pick up my script. Told him I had met a nice guy. He was like " oh wow!" I just laughed. Then he said he didn't think I had an appt til April?

I said "no Doctor, I am sure I have one in March. I can't go that long without seeing you. You are my Lifeline!" Then I patted him on the chest and declared "and my Hero!"

The dear sweet man who is the only male alive who totally gets who and why I am, blushed! So sweet! So I said, "I know, that sounded kinda creepy, huh?" He said, "No, it's nice!"

Now why can't I find a sexual partner who is as awesome with me as my Doctor. He really made my day! I love how he freaked out about me meeting some guy! I said, "next session Doctor, hopefully I will have some positive stories to tell you!"

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A friend of mine has worked out an ingenious method of solving her noisy Bat Plague problem. She taped four hours of their screeching and played it back to them by day.

She also put a transistor radio slightly off the station so they only hear the static, the dreadful sonic annoyance of it. LMAO. Tonight they are very quiet.

They got the message that they have been very inconsiderate neighbours and they got a dose of their own medicine. Bats like their peaceful sleep just like the rest of us. hahah. Love it!

This same friend, also found away to keep the possums away from her precious fruiting tree. She put a fence around it of that orange mesh plastic type fencing, and planted raspberry canes to trail up it. So far the rare and precious one ripe fruit has not been taken. hahaha. Clever Woman! So proud of her!

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I am going to The Hipshooters on Friday night by hook or by crook! I might have to borrow the $10 cover charge but it's going to happen. "Stamps feet!"

25 February 2013

Crystal got a lead role today, playing the Mother in a play called Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka! She is so excited! She now has work until September! So AWESOME!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons